Égaré Amour
by pagedancer
Summary: "Yes, I am aware of the rift between Agent Walker and Agent Anderson. However, they are both highly trained operatives fully capable of setting aside personal feelings to complete a mission."
1. Prologue

Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Covert Affairs.

(-)(-)(-)

Stu Heatherton closed the file he was given, rubbing his forehead at the headache that was already brewing. This Op was some piece of work.

He looked up at his boss, his mind whirling. He opened his mouth a couple of times, to ask a question, voice a concern, only to shut it again. It was insanely risky. The costs, both personal and professional, should it fail, were astronomical. But the more he thought about it, worked through all the angles and possible scenarios, he couldn't help but be in awe of its brilliance.

It would take months of groundwork. A simple cover wouldn't be enough. They would need to _create_ lives with roots and history. Layers upon layers of complex plays. Intricate chains of contingency plans. It was every handler's best nightmare.

Then there was the team they were sending in.

"They don't exactly have a track record for keeping things clean and by the book." He commented. "I doubt that's changed."

Joan tilted her head. "Was that a question, Heatherton?"

He shook his head. "No, Ma'm. I'll get started on this right away."

"And I can trust you to remain discrete on the…particulars." Her gaze told him exactly what would happen should any of it leak out.

He gulped and nodded.

"Good." She went back to her paperwork.

Though he recognized the clear dismissal, he hesitated. "Ma'm, you do know that they've barely spoken a word to each other in months?"

She didn't look up from her work. "Yes, I am aware of the rift between Agent Walker and Agent Anderson. However, they are both highly trained operatives fully capable of setting aside personal feelings to complete a mission."

Knowing he had no ground to stand on, he sighed and made his way back to his desk. This would either be the clusterfuck of the century, or an epic win that would go down in CIA history.

Either way, this was going to be one long Op. He made a mental note to renew his migraine prescription.

(-)(-)(-)

In her office, long after Stu had left, Joan made a phone call from an encrypted line. "Everything is set. They should arrive on schedule."

"We'll be ready and waiting."

(-)(-)(-)

Author's note: I'm not even going to mention this last episode, but it did spurn me to get started on this piece. Short and vague, but I'll make up for it in the next chapter. I can't promise frequent updates, but I do promise a completed story. Thanks to everyone who have read and reviewed my stuff so far!


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Covert Affairs

(-)(-)(-)

Annie leaned back in her chair looking back and forth between her two bosses. Though she belonged to a different department now (one she still didn't know the name of) and therefore answered to Lena, Joan has been borrowing her for more and more missions. She was happy to be kept busy, but she sometimes felt like a rag doll being fought over on the playground.

The two women were all but glaring at each other. Neither willing to back down or give so much as an inch. She often wondered which of them would win in a fight. If there was no thought to decorum or professional consequence and they just had it out in a no-holds-barred match, they would both probably let go of whatever grudge they held on to.

"Bottom line," Lena said, finally."My operative, my call."

Joan scoffed. "And here I thought you were willing to see the bigger picture."

"What bigger picture? You have yet to read me in on anything."

She was about ready to claim some vacation time when the door opened behind her. She didn't have to turn her head to know who it was.

"Sorry, I'm late. Traffic's a nightmare." She felt his warmth as he moved just to her right. Her entire body stiffened at his nearness.

"Two black coffees." Auggie handed a cup to Joan and one to Lena. "And a milk with two sugars." He held it out for her, and much as she wanted smack it out of his hands, she took it wordlessly and dropped it in the wastebasket next to her.

"Now that you're here, we can begin." Joan picked up the files on her desk and handed them out.

Lena rolled her eyes, and as soon as she opened the file she gave a short laugh. "This? This is what you need Annie for?"

Annie scanned the first few pages and had to agree with her sentiment. She understood what a win this would be for the agency, but there was nothing in the dossier that said her skill set made her uniquely more qualified than anyone else, so why did it have to be her? Unless…She didn't need to look up to see that he had come to the same insane conclusion. She could _feel_ his eyes on her.

"Cover Operations did their homework. They spent months combing through the entire building floor by floor. Apparently, you two would make the most convincing estranged married couple. Everything centers on your abilities to sell it. You would, of course, have to spend a few days with Cover Ops to create your actual covers, but I'd expect you on the island no later than next week."

The mission was to pose as a married couple. They would need to apply their case, and upon acceptance, fly to Isla Eleazar, an island in the Atlantic off the coast of Spain. The story was, Napolean had gifted it to a Spanish madam as a token of his affections. A castlet was built in the center, and was later converted into a resort. New owners turned the island into a haven for troubled couples. It was said to be the couples' counseling center of the world. Dignitaries, moguls, powerful men from all walks of life flocked there to save their marriages. Little more was known about the people who owned it. Somehow they'd managed to survive five years on an untraceable revenue stream. Many agencies from different countries have tried to infiltrate the ranks of the mysterious company, and now it seemed the CIA was giving it a shot.

Lena watched the carefully blank look that took over the younger woman's face. She had seen it before. For awhile now, she'd noticed how Annie threw herself into her operations. It was with a reckless drive, a desperate need to escape. Sometimes those feelings could be channeled into something productive. An agent as good as Annie could work through her issues. But she had a feeling it something to do with Auggie Anderson. Judging by the way he hadn't said a word or taken his attention from Annie once, she had a feeling he wouldn't just go away.

_She's never going to be able to focus until she gets past this._ Knowing the last thing she could do was force her, she asked gently, "What do you think, Annie?"

A year ago, she would have jumped at the chance to go out in the field with Auggie again. But now, she could barely stand to be in the same room with him. She had worked hard to put up and maintain a distance between herself and her old handler. Part of her still hated him so much. She wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Lena and Joan where they could stuff their stupid, overly complicated operation. But the blood was rushing to her head, and she had to really concentrate on keeping her breathing even.

Being _with _Auggie. In his arms. Act like she loved him. Having him touch her. Act like he loved her. How could she do it?

To distract herself she skimmed through the rest of the file. According to the blue prints, the castlet was at the peak of a slope. There were hundreds of cabins scattered a good distance away. There were no specifics of their security system, their staff, or _anything_. "They boast of a 96 percent success rate. They balance a high-end security system that ensures their protection, and the safety and validity of their clientele, all while maintaining their anonymity? How is that possible?" No one could leave alone a mystery, but in their line of work everything unknown was treated like a potential threat until proven otherwise.

"We do have an informant, and an office on the main land. This is, basically, an intel gathering mission. The two of you will complete the program and find out everything you can from the inside." Joan also watched Annie carefully. Gone was new recruit, eager to jump feet first at the slightest offer. This agent did not want to go on this mission. "Would you like a day to think about it? I'll need your answer by tomorrow."

She didn't feel like she was being given much of a choice, but she needed to stop waffling. This was her job, just another op. She would do her damndest to remain objective and compartmentalize everything else. "No need. I'm in."

After going over a few more details, Annie was dismissed. Lena followed soon after.

"You were awfully quiet." Joan commented.

Auggie shrugged. "You know me. I'll take any mission that will get me into the field." That wasn't what she meant, and they both knew it. Not once had Annie addressed him, looked at him, or acknowledged he was even in the room.

"Talk to me, Auggie. The two of you were joined at the hip once."

He let out a long sigh. Ever since they were both reassigned a chasm had formed between them. He had been busy. She had been busy. Everytime he did ask (back when she was speaking to him), all he got was, "Fine." Neither of them were allowed to discuss anything with the other. Then there was Parker.

He had loved her. At a time where he desperately needed stability he held on to his relationship with her. He proposed. He had been so focused on Parker, that he didn't notice Annie pulling away from him. One night. One night was all it took for his world to come spiraling down. Weeks, months later, he still felt so lost.

Maybe because she'd known him for so long, or maybe because the building liked to gossip, she knew that he didn't need her sympathy just then.

"Agent Anderson!" She said sharply, smiling internally as he jerked to attention. "If you are incapable of completing this mission in an efficient and objective manner, let me know now, and I'll find someone who is."

She fought the grin when his sightless eyes narrowed. "Let me clear my desk and I'll meet with Cover Ops tomorrow. I'm assuming Stu will be running point? I'll touch base with him today."

"See that you do."

He nodded stiffly and all but stormed out.

Joan shook her head, letting loose the smile she'd been fighting.

A complicated mission and two operatives in a complicated relationship. History always had a funny way of repeating itself.

(-)(-)(-)

Author's note: Still pretty vague, but I'm still picking up steam. I'm probably going to follow a little of the show's plot lines, but not all. Thanks for everyone support so far. Look forward to chapter two! ~pagedancer


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Covert Affairs

(-)(-)(-)

Auggie headed straight for the Tech Ops department with every intention of wringing Stu's neck for information (among other things) but found someone had beaten him to it.

"You couldn't have taken a second to warn me?" Annie demanded.

"When have you ever been warned?" Stu continued typing.

"Don't give me that! You knew I'd want to know."

"I knew you'd find some excuse to pass on it. If so much of this mission didn't hinge on the relationship between the two of you, I'd let you run off like the yellow-bellied—"

"Oh! First off, Auggie Anderson and I do not have a relationship!" He winced at the vehemence in her tone. "Second, I've been in more gun fights and explosions than most of the senior agents in this building."

"Then this mission should be a cake walk." He said smoothly.

There were a few seconds of silence as Annie fumed. "One day, Stu Heatherton, you're going to be more terrified of me than you are of Joan. I'm not going to forget this."

Annie stormed past, her heels clicking in time with her rage.

"You'll thank me for this later." Stu murmured.

"Somehow, I doubt it." Auggie said, smiling a little when he heard Stu jump. "They never do, you know."

"Hey, Auggie. Have you come to nicely retrieve your tech dossier, or are you going to yell at me too?"

"Was going to do a little of both, but I'd settle for a little insight." He never thought he'd have to ask anyone, least of all Stu, about Annie. He didn't want to think that so much changed that she was now someone he couldn't recognize, but the level of ice she threw at him was daunting. "How bad is it?"

"Not bad. Most of this is to give you the privacy you need. Little EMP buttons that null any surveillance they might put on you. We'll probably have them sown into something inconspicuous. The resort also doesn't allow weapons, so we'll have to improvise. I know we have a cane that is made to send over 10,000 volts of electricity with a quick tap, and Annie is going to have a makeup bag full of—"

"Stu!" Auggie interrupted loudly. "I'm not talking about the equipment. I'm talking about Annie."

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Stu tried to backtrack. "How bad is it with Annie? Wouldn't you know that better than anyone?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, she's been giving the cold shoulder lately. She hasn't really spoken to me since…" _That night._ "I just need to know. How should I approach this?"

Stu rubbed his chin thoughtfully, studying his boss and long-time friend. "If I told you that there wasn't anything you could do, that you can go to hell in a hand basket as far as Annie Walker was concerned, would that stop you?"

"Probably not." His answer was immediate and without hesitation.

"Why?"

"Come on, Stu. It's Annie. You know—"

"Here's what I know." He turned his chair and faced him. "She's not an asset you can approach with an angle. Nor is she an ex-girlfriend you can sweet-talk into forgiving you. She's an operative. A damn good one, and she doesn't have time for your games." His voice rose with his irritation. "I know that she's got a lot of hurt and rage bottled up, and when that bottle finally shatters it'll make the atomic bomb look like a fire cracker. You wanna know how to approach this, Auggie? Get your shit together, figure out what you want and don't stop until you have it." The man stood up, and slapped an envelope to his chest. "That's all the insight I have. Now, take your files and get the hell out of my office."

It was closest any of his subordinates have come to standing up to him, and to champion someone as important to him as Annie. He almost smiled. "A few months in this chair and you think you can get away with talking to me like that?"

He could feel the other man shrink back before gulping nervously. He shook his head as Stu started to stutter out an apology. "Don't. I needed to hear that. But you're going to have to pay for dismissing me like I was some intern."

He sighed. "Fine."

(-)(-)(-)

After a fitful night's sleep, Annie got up early and made her way to the gym. She went through her routine of stretches and then headed straight for the punching bag. She had a set schedule for workout whenever she was in town. Several different trainers of different disciplines, associated with the company as well as other agencies. It kept her busy when she wasn't in the field. She liked to be busy.

She hardly ever used the punching bag at the CIA gym, but for days where she needed to vent, to release much of her pent up rage, nothing but the mindless aggression on a bag of sand would do. She had a good rhythm going, each hit landing in rapid, satisfying succession.

For a good half hour, she fumed freely. She could believe in the greater good. She saw the bigger picture enough to swallow being seen as a pawn to be discarded and replaced as soon as she was no longer useful, or if she got in anyone's way. This had been her life for three years. Using. Being used. Deceiving and being deceived. She could see that her actions made a difference, no matter how dirty she felt. It wasn't so bad when she had someone to talk to, someone on her side. Now she had no one she could even trust, and her heart felt so damn tired…She grieved for everything and everyone the job took from her, but she had too much anger to weep and too much pride to forgive.

"What a dark aura for so early." A voice behind her commented, startling her out of her thoughts. Her rhythm faltered and only honed reflexes saved her from being sucker punched by 50lbs of force.

She turned to face the person brave enough to interrupt her. She met of a solid wall of bulging muscles. Her eyes followed them up to broad shoulders and an angular unsmiling face. Clean-cut hair and direct eyes that didn't stray past her nose.

Straightening, she asked. " I have a black aura?"

He nodded. "Most people who come in here this early usually have one of two colors. A lemon-yellow, which indicates fear of losing control, either of oneself of having it taken away by another or a muddy green, which indicates jealousy, resentment, insecurity and guilt."

It made sense, given the environment. "And a black aura?"

"An unforgiving soul, a deep, past hurt and unreleased grief. It'll eat away at you if you're not careful."

She frowned and studied the man a little more closely. Despite the generic gym clothes, he held himself in a way that told her he was accustomed to tailored suits. He spoke without much intonation or inflection and was clearly from the orient. He reminded her of a yakuza member she once met. Who was he? "Is there something in particular you wanted, Mr—?"

"Chen. Warren Chen. And no, Miss Walker. I just wanted some peace and a quiet work out." He nodded at her and made his way to the other side of the room. "We'll be seeing more of each other, I'm sure."

Confused by the encounter, but not having time to dwell, she did her series of cool down exercises and headed for the showers.

(-)(-)(-)

"So, you met her?"

"Yes, she's resilient but troubled."

"And the other?"

"He has many unresolved issues. He thinks this mission will help at least win her back."

"But he's not aware…?"

The man shook his head.

The woman sighed. "Very well, it will remain that way for the time being. Are we set to proceed?"

He nodded. "The arrangements have been made."

"Keep me posted."

(-)(-)(-)

A/N Short, and abrupt (for me anyway) but there are different things I want to accomplish in each chapter. A look into their mindset, especially Annie's. I thank everyone for their support. It was mindblowing how enthusiastic and encouraging you all have been with just two vague chapters to start.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Covert Affairs.

(-)(-)(-)

Training on the Farm forced Annie through a barrage of strange, seemingly useless exercises and activities. In time she began to understand what it was she was really learning and saw the method behind the random madness.

But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out the point of what she was doing.

"I wish you two would stay in character." The photographer complained, giving a pained sigh. "Walker, why do you look so annoyed? You're not supposed to be annoyed. You are woman in love. Anderson, the woman next to you is _your_ woman. Why do you look like you're afraid she's going to bite you? Where is the possessiveness? The adoration? Get it together, or we pull the plug on this right now."

"Nazi." They both said, under their breath.

Auggie hid a smile, while Annie frowned.

They were both in the bowels of the agency, in what once might have been a warehouse or underground parking. She'd been stripped of her blouse and pencil skirt in favor of a sleeveless halter dress; the brand of which she'd never be able to afford on her salary. She had to look like a socialite. Auggie's neatly pressed work suits were deemed acceptable.

They were sitting at a round glass table under an umbrella. The green screen behind them was to show a café in Venice.

With an inaudible sigh, she scooted her chair closer. At the photographer's glare, she got up and settled herself on Auggie's lap.

She felt him go stock still, before curling his arms around her. "Smile for the camera, darling." And on it went for a good hour. A different scene, a different outfit. Annie finally realized they were making an album, a timeline for their "relationship". When the photographer was satisfied (barely), they were allowed a break.

Auggie had been looking for an opening to speak to Annie, aware they needed to clear the air. A team that went on a mission at odds, like they were, ran into more danger than any other. He was about to say her name, when someone else called out to her.

"Hey, Annie? Can I have a minute?" He recognized that voice and frowned.

Annie crossed her arms. "You've got half a minute, Stu. And it better be good. I haven't had near enough coffee for this modeling shit."

They moved away, but not quite out of his hearing.

"You've been in a foul mood since you got this assignment. Be honest, if anyone else was your partner, would you be this pissed?"

Her silence made her answer loud and clear. "If you're worried I'll blow this mission—"

"You know that's not it. You've gotten better at putting your emotions on the back hook, but do you really think you can give it all you've got when you're so angry, you can't even fake it here at the agency? You and Auggie will both get blown if you don't work with him."

She gave a long and weary sigh. "I can't look at him the same way anymore. Joan expects us on the island by next week. What do you suggest?"

"Talk to him. Clear the air."

"It's not that simple."

Now it was Stu's turn to sigh. "Well, I brought something I'm hoping will help brighten your outlook." He shuffled some paper. "Here."

There was a beat of silence before Annie burst into laughter, loud uproarious laughter.

Auggie felt a slight pang at the gleeful sound.

There was a time she came to _him_ whenever something was bothering her. When it was him coaxing a smile or a laugh. When it was still effortless between them. Now, they hardly spoke. _He_ was what was bothering her. And it seemed, in his effort to give her space, someone else had stepped in to replace him.

"Oh. My. God." She wheezed. "Is that—"

"Yes."

"Where did you find it?"

"Never doubt the resources of a nerd in the CIA."

"God, look at him. He can't be more than sixteen." Her voice was filled with something warm, before she sighed. "Dammit, Stu. Why'd you have to show me this?"

"You know why. To remind you, no matter what he's done or hasn't done, you know him. If you're determined to punish him, at least give him a chance to crawl back into your good graces."

She fell into thoughtful silence. When she spoke again, he could hear the resolve behind her teasing, "Does he know you have this?"

"He'll find out, and when he does, I hope you'll remember the hours I spent digging it up just to make you smile."

"Walker! Anderson! Break's over!" The photographer yelled. "Time to get back to work."

As Annie walked away, back toward what he'd come to know as the Wardrobe Section, he felt Stu approach.

"Do you have it?"

"Yeah, Auggie. I still think it's an unnecessary expense, considering she'll only end up giving it back, but the jewelers followed your instructions. I had to pull some strings to get it so quickly, too." He handed him a small box, which he pocketed.

"Do you…think she'll like it?" He hated that he wasn't sure, couldn't be sure.

"If you present it with the right sentiment. She could still toss it in your face if she thinks you're trying to buy her forgiveness."

He nodded. "One more thing, Stu?" As the other man started walking away.

"Yes?"

"What exactly did you show her?"

He gulped. "Uh, nothing bad. Just an old picture of you. To soften her up a little."

Soon, Auggie was swept away be several of the photographer's assistants, keeping him from getting a straight answer.

For the past few wardrobe changes of the photo shoot, Auggie hadn't been paying much attention to what they put him in. They were all variations of the same thing, similar to what he wore most days anyway. But something was markedly different.

The first thing he registered was the rigid crispness of his pants. The shirt he put on was tight, barely allowing him to breathe without restriction. Then there was the jacket. He recognized the lapels of a suit jacket at barely a brush of his fingertips. Top it all off with a bow tie that was inches from strangling him, and he was left in no doubt what it was. A tuxedo. He was wearing a tuxedo. Which could only mean…

Suddenly the bustle of activity had stopped. He turned his head to the echoing sound of heels coming in his direction.

Annie stopped in front of him, uncertain how to proceed.

"Wow." He whispered. "You must look amazing."

"Thanks." Her voice was sharp with a shy nervousness he'd never heard before. "Would you…would you like to see?"

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Just this once. Don't make me slap you." She took his hands and put them on her waist. Another time he would have made some quip about groping her in public, but he suddenly lost his voice.

"It's a pretty simple design. White, floor length with a train in the back. Silk from the waist, and lace a few inches past my knees." She kept her voice even, like she was giving a briefing. He trailed his hands down, following the bell shape of the dress and then slowly, hesitantly, up her sides. He paused at the feel of an intricate pattern of bumps. Beads?

"Embroiding?"

"Yes. Goes all the way up to my shoulders."

He tried to put all the pieces together from her description and the little details he compiled on what she looked like. He knew his imagination wouldn't come close. "Beautiful. Annie, you're beautiful."

She blushed, embarrassed by the reverence she heard. "Thank you, Auggie. You're not looking too bad yourself."

For a moment, he could almost believe things were back to normal. Almost.

"We better get back on set before they yell at us again."

She made to walk away, he caught her wrist before she could get too far. It gratified him to know he was still in tune to her to know where she was. "A minute, Annie? If I could just have one more minute?" He was nervous. He tried to rationalize that this was simply for the mission, and to salvage their friendship, but it didn't help. He wanted, quite badly, for her to accept it. "I know that we are not okay. We haven't been okay for awhile. I…I miss you, and I want to fix it. You mean too much to me to let the job and everything else get in the way. So, I got you something." His hands actually shook as he took out the velvet box and opened it.

Annie's jaw fell open. "Auggie, what—"

"You don't have to keep it." He said quickly. "I didn't get a say on the wedding bands, but I wanted you to have something, just for you. Things aren't right between us. I'm not foolish enough to believe this one mission will fix things, but I'm not going to stop trying. And even if you never forgive me, I want you to know that I'm still on your side, on your team. Always. I'm not going anywhere."

He smelt the salt of tear before he heard her sniffle. His heart sank a little, and then he had his arms full of silk, lace and Annie. She whispered something in his ear before she was dragged away by a furious make-up artist.

"Well, you've made her cry. Now we're going to have to take an extra 20 minutes to get her presentable for the camera. Happy?" The photographer tsked in admonishment.

But he could hardly hear him, Annie's words on repeat in his head.

"_The ring is gorgeous, but you've got a long way to go, soldier boy."_

He grinned. _Game on._

(-)(-)(-)

At the end of the day Annie gazed down at the ring Auggie had given her. She had been sneaking peaks at it since he slipped it on her left hand. The ring, as was common with traditional engagement rings, was made of silver. It had a dark pearl-shaped ruby at the center, with a string of diamonds encircling it like a flower. It should have been gaudy, like costume jewelry. Instead it was undeniably gorgeous and just so…perfect. She knew, from the admiring whispers of the make-up crew, that this was no impulsive pick-up. It was custom made. He thought of her, and created a ring that he knew she would like.

She was softening, and she cursed herself for it. She had solid reasons for keeping him at arms' length, solid reasons for holding on to her anger.

She thought of the picture Stu showed her and allowed herself a grin. It was of Auggie, teenage Auggie. Baggy clothes, lanky built and bright, platinum blond hair. That she couldn't help the rush of warmth and affection showed her how easily she could forgive him.

"_Even if you never forgive me, I want you to know that I'm still on your side, on your team. Always."_ He had said, and she knew he meant every word. No matter how much she hurt, or how fiercely she walled herself off from him, he could still weaken her. He was going to try to fix things, to talk to her. She couldn't fight him off forever, and if she were honest, she missed him.

But, even if she did end up forgiving him, with all that happened and everything she went through, would it really change anything?

(-)(-)(-)

A/N Phew! This took awhile. There has been no lack of inspiration lately, but divvying up what happens by chapter takes a lot of organization. And my drafts have no order to them whatsoever.

I know that I can only drag the mystery so far through the story, but there is a big yet subtle reason and if you all will be patient with me, it'll be worth it.

As always, thank you for all your support and hope you look forward to the next chapter!

Oh, and the picture of Auggie with platinum blonde hair? It totally exists: www . youtube watch ? v = G6g2oEaEfjY (remove the spaces)


	5. Chapter Four Part 1

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own Covert Affairs

(-)(-)(-)

Auggie all but collapsed on his sofa when he got home. The past two days had been hell. In more ways than one, but specifically because of one Annie Walker.

When they first met attraction to her had been immediate. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't only rely on what he heard from other men to alert him to a beautiful woman. With Annie it had been startling simple.

There was her scent. That tantalizing whiff of Jo Malone grapefruit that told him when she was close and stayed long after she'd gone.

Her laugh. She had a free and expressive laugh that instantly brightened his day when he heard it. During the flirtier side to their banter, it took on a sultry-like edge that he found incredibly sexy.

Her skin. Sparring with her was equal parts pleasure and torture. The feel of her soft skin beneath him, warm and slick with sweat left him more hot and bothered than most the one-night stands he'd had.

But even with all of that, the connection, the attraction, the chemistry, he knew pursuing her would be a mistake. Despite his line about the CIA encouraging dating within the agency, it was frowned upon between an agent and handler. Almost taboo.

A romantic relationship between two people who worked closely together always raised a storm of complications, not the least of which was impaired judgments that usually ended in failed missions and someone asking for a transfer. Most people already believed they were sleeping together, and his objectivity regarding her was always questioned.

So, he told himself not to think about it, and labeled Annie Walker off limits. He became her friend, her confidant and more often than not, her partner in crime. He was fine with that. Their friendship was a good thing for both of them, and one of the few that came to really matter to him. He could deal with the random not-so-platonic fantasy, and the occasional wet dream (he was human after) without being too tempted. He'd even mostly gotten pass that spark of irritation every time some random guy flirted with her. And even if he wanted to, there was always that little doubt in the back of his mind that if he went for it, crossed that line, he'd lose her.

Then he met Parker, and it was like a door had opened. He fell in love. Possibilities that he thought long gone after losing his sight become wonderfully frightening inevitabilities. He was blind, literally and figuratively, to any qualms of it being too fast, or for the wrong reasons. It felt good, and he needed something good to hold on to.

But, when she left he was thrust into that dark place again. Heartache and his inability to go after her dug up the old frustrations and undisciplined fury he fought so hard to bury.

Diving back into work, long hours at the gym and the mandatory yet surprisingly productive therapy sessions helped to bring him back. And Annie.

From the minute she bailed him out of jail after the incident at Allen's, she stood by him as he put his life back together. She didn't hover, simply listened when he needed her. There was compassion instead of pity. She never told him "I told you so", for which he was grateful. All the while he started _looking_ at her. It became a struggle to keep himself in check. Every time he touched her he had to force himself not to linger. Whenever she was close, he fought against the need to pull her closer. He wanted her. Wanting her was easy. It was that dangerous little bit _more_ that scared him.

It was around then that he'd really noticed the distance. Between a new job at the Office of Special Projects, trying to unravel the mystery behind Jai's death and his relationship with Parker, he'd lost track of Annie. Though he thought they were reconnecting, going back to what they had before, she was very clearly keeping him at arms' length. Always the first to pull back, the first to move away. Where she once told him everything, with little regard to CIA rules, she became secretive and had actually outright lied to him more than once. She stopped answering his calls when she was out of the country, and she was more often than not always out of the country. He felt that distance keenly. There could only be one reason for such a change: Annie had gotten herself a boyfriend.

She never said anything, but it was like Dr. Scott all over again. He was pretty sure they had some kind of fight when she asked to come over _that_ night.

_She wasn't overly emotional per se, but she was tense. Strung tight. She wanted to tell him something. He was familiar enough with her moods to sense the reason behind the fidgety restlessness. He didn't want to pressure her, so he made it his goal to relax her. She came to him to forget, to cling to something. He was her safety net in more ways than one. _

_His first mistake was the Tequila. He was out of Patron, and a night like that required good liquor. Then Annie discovered his darkest secret._

_He had left her to grab another bottle from the kitchen, when he heard her shout, "Oh, my God!" and suddenly blasting out of his stereo came "Oops! I did it again" by Britney Spears._

_He could feel his ears get hot. By the time he got the volume down, she was rocking with laughter. "Busted."_

"_I don't suppose you're too drunk to remember this tomorrow?"_

_He could hear her grinning, which led to his second mistake: Spin the bottle truth or dare._

_Annie, for all her knowledge of international drinking games, hadn't ever heard of it. _

"_Can't believe you've never played. We spin the bottle, whoever it lands on goes first. Flat end truth, neck end dare. Not scared are you, Walker? I might find something more damning than Britney Spears."_

_They pushed all his furniture back and settled on the floor._

"_Ha! Like there is anything that damning to be had."_

_It was all lighthearted truths (she'd lost her virginity at a metal concert in Japan) to good-natured dares (he would try to remember to apologize to Joan for the drunken phone call). Annie was relaxed, just as he hoped she would be. It would have stayed that way, if not for the extra bottle of Tequila they had in between spins. In all fairness, she had started it._

"_I dare you to strip down to your shorts."_

_If he had been more sober, he would have been shocked. As it was, he smirked, "Wanna see the goods, Walker? All you had to do was ask."_

_He gave a drunken approximation of a strip tease that had her giggling._

"_Mmm…Hello, Soldier Boy." She purred, making certain part of him stand at attention._

"_Should I make you admit how hot you are for me?" He asked reaching for the bottle and spinning it._

"_Neck end out. You're hot, Auggie. Is it my turn now?"_

"_Not so fast, that wasn't my dare." There was a beat of silence then he grinned, challenge in his features. "Kiss me."_

_She gave a short laugh, but he heard her breath stutter. "That's it? That's the best you got?"_

_He heard her crawl toward him and put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself. She gave him a swift peck on the lips before pulling back. He raised a brow. "Wow. Annie Walker, the yellow-bellied chicken."_

_She gave an affronted huff. _

_He started making clucking sounds, taunting her. She growled and was on him before he could celebrate his victory._

The night came back to him in hot blurry flashes.

_Drowning in her scent (the grapefruit and the essence that was distinctly Annie). Breathing her in. Mouth hungrily tasting her, devouring her. His hands were greedy for the soft silk of her skin, memorizing every inch of her. He reveled in every discovery, what made her sigh, where to touch to make her breath hitch. As responsive as she was, she gave just as good as she got. He'd had many memorable bedmates, but none held a candle to Annie Walker. _

As drunk as they both were, she had fried his circuits. It wasn't slow, it wasn't gentle. It was a fast, hot ride that stole his breath and left him weak. The memory of that night and the passion they shared shook him to the core. One taste of her had been more than enough to ruin him. He wanted more.

Things had been changing between them, but after such an intense experience, he thought they could move forward together. They'd already crossed that fragile line; there was no way they could go back.

But he woke up alone. She'd cleaned up their drunken play area and had set his furniture back to rights before she left. If his bed didn't smell like her, if his body didn't ache from their activities, he might have believed that it was all another dream.

As soon as he went looking for her, he was met with a wall of silence, which meant she was out on assignment again. He called, left messages, and instructed others to inform him as soon as she got back stateside. He understood that she probably needed space. She was still involved with that someone else. Coming on too strong and scaring her away was the last thing he wanted to do. He could wait. She was worth it.

But weeks turned into months, and he began to worry again. Something happened. Something big. Chatter and what little intel he could gather on the goings on of Lena's department told him that. He didn't have a clear picture, just that something had gone wrong with Annie.

So, when he got word that she was back, he found her exactly where he expected: beating the hell out of a punching bag. Sensing anger and frustration, he approached carefully.

"Hey, Walker. Welcome back."

There was a slight pause before she continued pounding sand, "Anderson." She greeted curtly.

He raised a brow at the frost in her tone, something he'd never had directed at him. "You want to meet up at Allen's later?" They really needed to talk.

"Pass." She said shortly. "Won't be in town long. Joan's sending me to God-knows-where tomorrow."

"You back with the DPD?" He would have heard of that, but then again he was having trouble staying in the loop on anything concerning her.

"No, serving two masters."

"But you just got back. If you want, I can talk to—"

"Stay out of it!" She said sharply, stilling the punching bag. "I can handle myself."

Taken aback by her hostility, he barely had time to grab her wrist as she breezed by him.

"Annie, what's going on?" He knew they were at a weird place, but it felt like her anger came from somewhere else.

She tried to wrench her wrist away, but he held firm. "Let go."

"No." He blocked her other arm as she brought it up to hit him. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Really? You're asking me what's wrong? The great Auggie Anderson not knowing?" She rounded on him and felt her shift.

He blocked her right hook, and the elbow she aimed at his stomach, but she clipped his jaw. Ignoring the pain, he maneuvered her into a headlock. She had gotten better, and rage gave her an edge.

She struggled, hissing profanities at him.

"Annie, just talk to me." Before he could blink, in a move he'd never seen from her, she hauled him over her shoulder and tossed him to the ground, knocking the breath out of him and putting a foot on his throat.

"We are done, hear me? Finished. Stay the hell away, Auggie. Or you will get hurt." There was a dangerous edge to her now. "I won't be so nice next time."

Stunned, he just laid there as she left.

After that, for months he worked like a maniac to find out what happened. He went over every case she was involved in that he had clearance to, and some he did not. Searched for any op he worked on that might've crossed paths with one of hers. He exhausted his considerable resources, called in favors and got nowhere. All he knew was that Annie hated him. It must've been that night. Their night together. He took advantage. Destroyed what they had, just because he had wanted more. He was waffling on what to do next when Joan approached him with an offer he couldn't refuse.

Which led to how he had spent his day.

They had their cover (self-made businessman in the private sector and a freelance translator), they had their stories (meeting, dating, marriage), they even had enough "roots" put down to pass even the agency's background check (W2s, high school yearbook, mortgage). It was solid. It also wasn't enough. The problem, they were told frankly, was the two of them.

Martha, their (for lack of better title) acting coach, took them aside. "Look, you two, the people you're going up against will be able to see through this half-assed performance you've got going the second you step foot on the island."

A part of him scoffed. He was willing to do whatever it took to sell the cover, but the theatrics this woman wanted was not his game.

"What do you suggest?" He asked, tired. They'd both been tied up with their own ops since early morning, before being unceremoniously dragged down to Cover Ops.

"You both have your overnight bags nearby, yes?"

They both nodded, and she clasped her hands together excitedly.

"Excellent! You'll both stay here tonight. No, I insist," She said, when they started to protest. "It's for the integrity of the mission after all. Good of the country, national security, and all that. Tomorrow, you'll have a performance that'll confuse even Arthur Campbell himself. I guarantee it."

And that's where it began. His night of hell.

(To be Continued…)

(-)(-)(-)

A/N I'm still alive! Bogged down by life, and universe, and everything. I haven't forgotten this story, though I hesitate as the summer finale got closer. I don't remember where in the season I started this story, but I do know that many things have and will continue to deviate from it. Gotta love that about fanfiction.

Anyway, there was too much I wanted to put in this chapter, so I've cut it half. I hope that the little tidbit into the great mystery I had going will make up for my absence. I know Annie's reaction came out of left field, and that's because that night was only half the story. And that's all I'm gonna say about that for now.

As always, thanks so much for the follows, favorites, and reviews. Hope you enjoy what's up ahead. ~pagedancer


	6. Chapter Four Part 2

Chapter Four Part Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Covert Affairs.

(-)(-)(-)

They followed Martha through a maze of corridors. They ended up in a hallway lined with doors of different colors and numbers, like an apartment building.

"Once upon a time in our agency's history, we did not have the resources to provide secure safehouses in major cities. We barely had what it took for proper NOCs. So, in almost every CIA building there is a set of apartments." She stopped at a door, the green paint chipped with age. Taking a key from her pocket she unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Many have been converted to storage, and little offices, while some remain as they were."

Annie looked around the room as Auggie walked around with his laser cane. It was about the size of a cheap hotel room. The room was pretty barren. A large couch sat at the wall with a matching chair, opposite a television, with a coffee table in the middle. There was a small kitchenette at the corner with a mini-fridge. A door near the kitchen led into a full bathroom.

"It's not the Ritz, but you two will only be here for one night."

"Small, windowless room, reeking of stale air and mothballs. I gather the decor is Spartan at best?" Auggie remarked.

The walls were bare; a plain coat of white, and the carpet was a dark blue. All the furniture was either black or grey. "Yup."

"Might as well be the Ritz then."

"Most agents only needed this space to sleep. Cheaper and safer than a motel." Martha waited until they both sat down on opposite ends of the leather sofa. "That sofa pulls out into a bed. There's only enough power for lights, so the kitchen isn't functional, but the water and cable are both on. Cell reception is crap, but the rotary phone in the kitchen works."

"A rotary phone? A television and a rotary phone. The last time I was this unplugged it was because one of my brothers locked me in a toolshed. Can we at least order pizza?"

"It's on its way. Extra cheese, half pepperoni, half Hawaii. A side of wasabi sauce."

They blinked at her.

"I'm pretty sure that's not in our files." Annie said finally.

Martha smiled "It's our job to know these things, Ms. Walker. Which brings me to why I've asked you both here."

Annie almost snorted. Asked nothing. She was escorted to her car, where her overnight bag was, and back into the building by two armed guards. She wasn't sure what kind of pull Martha had, but it was enough to get what she wanted.

"First, I want you both to know that there are no cameras or listening devices in this room. The only eyes and ears here are our own. Then, just yours when I leave. You may speak freely without fear of being overheard, understood?"

They both nodded.

"Good. Now, I could tell you why you were chosen for this mission, but unless you realize it for yourselves, there will continue to be discord between you two. Separately, both of you are assets to this agency, but as a team you are an effective weapon. One the agency wants to develop and use to our advantage. Such a well matched pair, we haven't seen in years. Whatever that has happened to upset the balance for you to work as seamlessly as you once had, needs to be addressed. "

They tensed, but she shook her head. "I'm not going to ask you to discuss it with me. I'm not even asking you to settle and make up before heading to the island. This conflict makes you two people wanting to salvage their relationship. What better way to sell the cover? Just enough truth to make it real ." She stood up. "Here is your assignment for tonight. Share a meal, share a bed, and talk civilly. Tomorrow morning, tell me why you were picked for this mission and if I accept your answer we move forward. If not, game over." She nodded to them both and made her way to the door, she paused with her hand on the doorknob. "When I see you both tomorrow, Agent Walker, Agent Anderson, I expect to see a team. Partners. Good agents set aside personal feelings, great agents use them to effectively complete missions. Good night."

Feeling well and truly scolded, they sat in silence. Both wondering how to proceed, if they still had enough to make it work.

Silence.

There had never been many awkward silences between them. One usually knew when the other need to talk, or needed space to think. They were both usually on the same wavelengths. Unusual, for two so different people.

The quiet now was processing. Each contemplating how to play their relationship. They needed a thread of truth. How much of a thread could they spin without unraveling the spool?

Annie sighed, suddenly tired. "Hey, Auggie?"

"Yes, Annie?"

"Truce?"

He blinked. He knew what she was offering. A clean slate. He wouldn't bring it up, and she would try to stop holding it against him. Until they were both at a place where they could talk about it and still work together, after the mission, it was probably for the best. For now.

He nodded, and they both let out a relieved breath. They'd give themselves a reprieve. They shook on it, the metal of their rings _clinked_ as their palms touched.

"So, CEO of a Private security company. Would you have ever gone that route?" His cover was that of a CEO in the private sector. It provided him with a reason to not talk so much about his job, but still have one that fit his skill set.

"It's something I still consider now and again. Do basically what I do now, except less politics and calling the shots? Honestly, it's temping. Cover-wise, it makes sense. It would've been something I might've tried if I didn't have the CIA." He did consult on the side. "What about you? With all your linguistic skills and knowledge of other cultures, a freelance translator seems like good fit, huh? If a little bit of waste of your spycraft."

"I actually interned at the American Embassy in Japan while my dad was stationed there, but even at that age I never saw myself as a politician. But language, culture, connecting with people…I could've spent my whole life doing that."

And like a switch was flipped, they were suddenly talking. Her without the veil of anger and ice, and him without the hesitations and wariness.

They played catch up.

She told him about her family, their new life in California.

"They love it. Danielle's catering business has really taken off, and the girls love their new school."

He told her about the politics with his staff, all the drama that came with being boss.

"It's like a competition with everything. Who can get me my coffee in the morning, have a file ready before I ask for it, or be there with answers before I've even asked the question. Oh, they work together, but someone's always trying to outshine someone else." It took him a little while to understand that they were like this, not because they thought him incapable, but because they wanted to impress him, gain his favor, and in doing so advance their careers. His predecessors, even before Jai, ran the department that way.

"Everyone wants to be the brightest crayon in the box, even if all the boss needs are pixels."

He smiled at that. "It's flattering, but I'm a soldier at heart. Brownnosing doesn't get you any further. I wanna know more about your situation with your two bosses. I can't believe Joan and Lena share. How does that even work? The women hate each other."

Annie grinned. "It's almost like a game. Joan is just waiting to Lena to refuse to share, where she'll subtly imply that she doesn't trust me because she can't control me. Lena is waiting for me to spill some information on these high profile missions Joan sends me on, until then she subtly implies to Joan that I already have. It's all so petty and sophomoric." She still resented being used as a pawn, but field work was field work.

"You know what they need to do? Fight. Just duke it out in the gym. It'll be good for them. Clear the air."

"That's what I've always thought! Who do you think would win?"

"Hmm, hard to say. Joan's got a lot of pent up rage she can call on, but Lena's one helluva sneaky fighter."

"Think they'd be BFFs afterwards?"

They both paused, then at the same time, "No chance in hell."

When the food arrived, they were surprised with half a case of their favorite beer.

"We do have work in the morning," Auggie remarked.

"Better go slow."

They dug into their pizza, and settled down in front of the sofa. The only thing on TV that wasn't infomercials was a movie about a marrying his secretary in order to gain his inheritance.

"So I have a bold question, "Annie said, as it went to commercial.

"Ask away."

"Say we met outside the agency. If I was really just a translator, and you a wealthy business man. Would we have ended up together?"

He frowned, brows furrowed with consideration. Had he not went to work the CIA after rehab, how different of a person would he be? He thought about Annie, and his attraction to her. Would it be there at all if they had met in different circumstances? No question. "I am drawn to you, Annie. Always have been. Occupation has nothing to do with it." His words were sincere, and with them a tension they'd never openly acknowledged before. "I would've pursued you. The only question would be how long you could hold me off."

"Hmm," She tried to look at him objectively, to see through the eyes of who she was before the CIA. The old her would've been attracted, sure, but would she have responded to him? Her type had been the dangerous, mysterious bad boy. Then again, if it was Auggie..."I think I would've been drawn to you too. I would've at least let you take me out to dinner. Not sure I would've married you though."

They smiled, that old warmth and familiarity sneaking back.

"Now, I have a bold question myself." A familiar half smile lit his face, part mischief and part curiosity.

"Go ahead."

"Exactly what liberties am I allowed?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Well, starting next week, we'll be husband and wife."

"We'll be husband and wife about to divorce. What do you expect?"

Sensing where her thoughts had gone, he knew he had to make himself clear. "Since we only got married because you wanted my body, I think that it's only fair that we not get too carried away. Consider yourself cut off."

She raised a brow, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Is that so?"

Because her felt her relax, and heard the amusement in her tone, he nodded gravely. "I know it'll be hard, sleeping next to all this every night," He gestured to his form, making her snort. "But if we want this marriage to work, it has to be about more than just great sex."

"You know the way I see it, you married me to appear more stable to possible investors for your company, and I married you for financial security. The sex was a bonus."

"A little abstinence will be good for us."

"I don't know, Auggie. A girl has…needs." Her voice dropped to a whisper on the last word. "I'm not sure I'm strong enough."

"I believe in you."

There was a beat of silence, and then they both lost it. They laughed, loud and long. It was cathartic. Cleansing. They laughed like they did before things changed so much. It eased the sharp edges to what they both were now.

"If we ever go there again, Annie. It'll be because we both want it." He may be crossing a line by saying it, at the very least he might be breaking their temporary truce, be he had to say it. "I'd feel like the luckiest guy, but the timing has to be right."

She said nothing for a moment, reading his face, searching anything she couldn't trust. "Okay, we should practice."

"Huh?"

The next thing he knew, she was straddling him. "Woah, um…practice what exactly?"

"Well, when I do this,"She pressed herself up against his front, rubbing. Every part of him stiffened. "You have to act like it's not a big deal. Like it's not new to you."

He sincerely doubted it'll ever stop feeling new, but he understood what she meant. And really, who was he to argue? He tried to relax by scooting back a little, but she had him pinned against the sofa. Unsure what to do with his hands, he put them on her waist. "Touch you like I have the right to? Like I've had years to know you? Like you're mine?" He ran his hands up and down her sides as he spoke, almost absently.

"Mhmm,"She leaned in and rested her head on the crook of his shoulder, one hand reaching up to play with the hair at the base of his neck. She smiled a little as he gave an involuntary shiver. "Like you can touch me anytime, in any way, anywhere you want. Like you know what it does to me. Like I belong to you."

Her voice had taken a sultry quality that he drowned in. Having her so close, the curves of her body molding into him, made him dizzy. The want that he thought he had under control, threatened to consume him. He distantly wondered what she was doing, but he was too lost in her, too caught up to think clearly.

"Auggie?" She breathed into his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Resist me."

She nuzzled his ear, his sensitive ears, before lightly nipping the edge.

"Hmm? Why?"

"Because, I'll hurt you."

He froze, her words like a bucket of ice water. He leaned away from her, as far as he could. "I need to resist you."

"Get used to me, but you _have_ to resist. You can't let me own you so easily."

"Because we're trying to save our marriage, but I can't trust you. We've hurt each other." They tried to tell him. The nuances to the cover was left up to them, but he never thought about how deep they'd both have to go.

She nodded. "We were separated, so we've both been unfaithful. Neither of us thinks we'd last."

"Our job always keeping us away."

"Got married for the wrong reasons, too soon at that."

"And using sex as a weapon." He sighed. "Your parents probably hate me, too."

"So, why are we still together?"

They both silently agreed to discard the bitter hatred angle. "Pride? A failed marriage not only carries a stigma, but wealth blind guy's gonna have an ego. Leave me, and take half of what I've built for myself? Not without a fight." Even as he spoke, it didn't quite feel like enough.

"That'll be what you tell people, but you're not going to stay married to someone you feel nothing for." She thought of Danielle then, and smiled. "We stay because we remember how good it was. Late night dinners at the office, waking up on Sundays, making out in your corvet. This chapter isn't over, and neither of us wants it to be."

He could see it, so clearly he could touch it. He had had late dinners with Annie. He had woken up with her (unplanned sleepovers before _that night_). The making out thing he could work on. "I'm beginning to see why they chose us."

Because no one knew him better than Annie, and no one knew Annie better than him. No matter how much time passed, it would always be true. The connection they had couldn't be faked.

"So, what do you say, Agent Anderson? Think we can pull this off?" She moved off his lap and went to her bag.

He was about to give a cheeky reply, when he caught the sounds of cloth rustling. "Are you changing in front of me again?"

"Resistance." She reminded him, a grin in her voice.

_The best defense is a good offense_, he thought to himself, reaching for his own overnight bag beside the sofa. He noticed the rustling stop abruptly as he_ slowly _unbuttoned his shirt. Shrugging it off nonchalantly, he folded it and placed it neatly on the coffee table. With his back to her he undid his belt and slid off his pants, which he put on top of his shirt. He smirked at the hitching sound of her breath. Picking up his toiletry bag, he walked casually past her, comfortable in nothing but his boxers. "Mind finding the sheets while I'm in here? I'll help with the bed when I'm done." With that he escaped to the bathroom, in dire need of a cold shower. He didn't miss the slight pant she had as he walked by. It was good to know he affected her as much as she affected him.

(-)(-)(-)

_Well played, Soldier Boy,_ Annie thought, trying not to dwell on the image of his delicious body. She had seen it before, had felt it during their sparring sessions, she shouldn't be so affected by it. She'd have to work on building up her own resistance. Still, what she could remember of their night together didn't do reality justice.

After retrieving the bed sheets and the cotton blanket, which she hoped were as new and unused as they looked, she moved to the sofa. She had the cushions off and the mattress halfway pull off when it refused to go any further. Grunting with effort she pulled and push in every direction, but nothing worked.

"You're making some suspicious noises right now, Walker. Are you that bored?" Auggied asked, walking out from the bathroom.

Trying not to stare, she tugged on the handle of the bed again. "I'm trying to get the mattress out, but this ancient thing just won't budge."

"Maybe it takes offense to you calling it an "ancient thing" and would respond better to a firmer touch,"

She rolled her eyes, "The way your Jarvis system responds to you flirting with it?"

He grinned at that, "Machines have feelings, Annie. Notice how Jarvis only works at optimal efficiency for me?"

"On three?" They both placed their hands flat on the top of the mattress.

"One…two…three!" With their combined weight, the bed frame gave and before long they had the bed made.

"It's narrower than it looks." Annie commented.

"Do we need to put a pillow barrier? Wouldn't want you molesting me in your sleep."

She snorted, fully aware he was trying to put her at ease with his flippancy, and was oddly touched by it. "`Nother thing to get used to, I guess. We're adults. Adults can share a mattress without making it weird." And she was too tired to think about it too much. With a sigh, she got into bed, the springs squeaking only a little as she did so. As she drifted off, it occurs to her that tonight was probably the first night in months she was able to so fully relax. Auggie had always had that effect on her. Perhaps there was hope for them after all.

(-)(-)(-)

As the sound of her even breathing filled the room, Auggie was left wide awake. Two people made for a tight squeeze, but he thought if he stayed on his side it should be fine. That was until with a muttered grumble, she turned in her sleep and threw her leg and her arm over him. On top of her so close and wearing what felt like very little (he could feel the burning heat of the skin of her arms and legs), it looked like he wouldn't be getting much sleep.

He swallowed a moan, as she unconsciously moved against him. This was Hell. Pure. Unaltered. Hell. His brothers often warned him that his player ways would come back to get him. This was it. He tried to gently push her way, but she only tightened her grip on him and proceeded to _wiggle_ until she was half on top of him. Suddenly his joke about her molesting him in her sleep wasn't so funny anymore.

She sighed, and cuddle deeper into him.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

(-)(-)(-)

As Martha was leaving that night she spoke to her assistant. "You did remove their spare clothes, didn't you?"

"They'd both left them near the door after falling asleep. Agent Anderson is said to be a light sleeper, I was afraid he'd catch us."

"And the room temperature?"

"Set to go down a few degrees, not enough for them to freeze, but enough for them to seek one another's body heat."

Martha nodded. "Excellent."

(-)(-)(-)

A/N I'm not quite happy with the way this chapter turned out, but I needed to get past it and get the ball rolling. On the other hand, I'm glad I started this fic when I did so now that the season is over, I can go with my own plot. Vague as it is. Thank you for your patience, I know it's been awhile since I posted, and as always, I appreciate the reviews, follows, and alerts.

A little reader participation: PROMPTS. To be featured either in this fic or on its own, receiving mention and credit for the prompts. Send in a review or a PM. THANK YOU, ~pagedancer


	7. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I do not own Covert Affairs

(-)(-)(-)

Annie woke, feeling deliciously warm.

Stretching languidly, she felt the hard form of the man beneath her shift. The arms around her tightened, and she sighed contentedly. Feeling utterly relaxed she burrowed into him. Auggie. Even half asleep she recognized that earthly masculine scent that couldn't be anyone else. No matter how her conscious mind rationalized it later, her body did what it wanted. It was okay to pretend a little longer. What was the harm? Just as she was beginning to drift off, the shrill ring of the phone yanked them firmly out of sleep.

Groaning, Auggie pulled his pillow over his head. "Make it stop."

With a resigned sigh she stumbled over to the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

There was a pause and then, "Um, I'm looking for Mr. Anderson?"

She turned toward the bed. "Auggie, it's for you."

"Who is it?"

"Sounds like Clara from your department."

"Clara? But she doesn't get in until…" He felt for his watch on the side table, and swore. "Tell her I'll be about 40."

When Annie hung up, he said. "It's already past ten."

"What?" She'd slept in before, but never that late. Especially on a work day. Had she fallen asleep with anyone else, her body clock would've woken her. _Ugh, he's too comfortable for his own good._ Now completely awake and in full scramble mode, she grabbed her bag and tossed him his.

Making her way to the bathroom, she surveyed the tiny shower head. _No time for a shower._ She made do with the even tinier sink and then put her hair up. She'd gone on dates with less prep.

Leaving the bathroom, she glanced around in case she'd forgotten something. Martha had assured her that custodial staff would pick up after them, so she didn't worry about their leftover pizza. Then she noticed that Auggie was still in his shorts sorting through his bag.

"You're usually ready before I am. Need help?"

"Please. Do you happen to see a spare shirt and maybe a vest somewhere?"

She perused the neat little piles then checked the floor in case it fell out. "Nope."

His brows drew together, "That can't be right. I remember checking before they dragged us down here." Considering he only used it when he stayed overnight at the office, there should be no reason it was empty.

"Don't know what to tell you, it's not there." Annie shrugged. "Just wear what you had on. Won't be the first time you've worn the same outfit twice in a row."

He grinned at her, "Gonna do the walk of shame with me, Walker?"

She snorted, "There's no way either one of us is putting out a just-rolled-out-of-bed vibe. Chop chop, Soldier. Unlike you, I still have bosses who yell at me for being late."

"Right."

She tried not to stare as he dressed, busying herself with double-checking her bag. How was it he could make something as mundane as dressing himself seem…hot?

(-)(-)(-)

Despite Annie's assertion, she knew how they would look. Late, disheveled, showing up _together_ wearing yesterday's outfit? People assumed the obvious: She and Auggie were lovers.

Everyone stared, some with amusement, others with dismay. Nobody looked surprised, which made her wonder if it was something they all expected. By mutual agreement they parted ways at the elevator, skipping the coffee line, and trying to get to their respective desks as quickly as possible.

Annie worked through some of her paperwork for one of her Ops, determined to ignore the whispers. She suffered this in highschool, too. At least then she'd been able to plug herself in and drown out the voices with Korean Pop. She needed to work. The building would always be talking. Gossip never died. Joan wanted the report on her desk by lunch.

She was taking a breather in a bathroom stall when she heard them.

"Oh, yeah, they've been together since she started a couple years ago." A woman who sounded vaguely like Shirley from HR said.

"No, because I saw him with a brunette at a jazz bar last April," replied a second voice. "And she was dating some doctor."

She raised a brow. They were talking about her and Auggie.

"A cover. They both knew they'd be separated if the truth came out."

"I don't know. I mean, they did show up together this morning, but it's the first time in months. I heard they had a huge fight in the gym before they suddenly stopped talking."

Annie wondered if she should just step out, or wait for them to leave.

"Oh, it was bound to happen. She probably wanted them to come out of hiding. Do you think she's been looking a little different lately?"

"What? You don't think—?"

"Well, she has been wearing looser tops."

Her cheeks heated. _They think I'm pregnant? _Thankfully, the women soon left the restroom and Annie was able to leave the stall.

She tried not to let it get to her, but it was like a damn had open. She heard snippets wherever she went. The more she heard, the more her irritation rose.

Knowing it probably wasn't a good idea, she left her desk and made her way up to the OSP, the Office of Special Projects. She stopped at his assistant's desk. "He busy, Nancy?"

The woman wouldn't quite hold back her smile. "For you, Agent Walker, I think he's got time."

With a huff she went in. "The whole building thinks we're sleeping together."

"After our entrance this morning, can't imagine why." He said, not pausing in his work.

"I'm serious, Auggie. Not only that, but apparently no one is surprised. You wouldn't believe the things I've heard about us today. Everyone thinks we've been lovers from the beginning."

"Hate it to break it to you, Walker, but they've always thought that."

"What? They have not. How do you know?"

He shrugged. "What one hears when one listens. Besides, since when do you listen to idle gossip?"

There was no way Annie was going to mention being trapped in the bathroom the way she was. "I just don't like the idea of people talking about me like I'm another one of your conquest."

Auggie's fingers paused over his keyboard and he turned to face her. "You could never be anyone's conquest." His seriousness adding weight to his words. Annie blushed at the implication. _You mean more than that to me._

"Besides, didn't you hear? You're about to make an honest man out of me." He raised his left hand with a little wiggle. He wore his ring. It was a simple silver band.

She looked down at hers, apart from the glittering gem the two were a matching pair. She knew it wasn't practical wearing it in the building, even for the sake of the tanline, but she had to smile that they both did anyway.

"No one has been brave enough to ask outright, but I bet you anything HR is keeping an eye out for a Close and Continuing at the very least. I _heard_ money change hands."

"Well, you did basically propose in front of the one department that live and breathe gossip." She came to lean against his desk and crossed her arms. It occurred to her how normal it felt to be there. In the past, before things changed so much, she'd feel so comfortable just barging into his space whenever she wanted. The awkwardness and hesitation she had expected, just wasn't there.

"If you're going to hide up here until we leave for the Op, you could give me a shoulder rub or something. Make yourself useful." He said it jokingly, but was shocked when he felt her hands on his shoulders. "Annie, I wasn't – " He ended on an involuntary moan when she found a particular knot in his stiff muscles. She pressed circles from his neck to his shoulder.

Someone cleared their throat and they both froze.

Arthur Campbell, in all his years at the agency had walked in on many agents in various compromising positions, but none had turned the particular shade of red as the two before him now. "While I congratulate you two on your nuptials, the office really isn't the place for—."

"You know, I just remembered. Joan wanted to see me about something. I'll see you gentlemen later." It was a cowardly thing, but no way was she sticking around for this. _Talk about awkward._

"I assume you'll file the paperwork soon."

"It's not what you think, Sir. Annie and I aren't together."

"Hmm." He didn't sound convinced. "Coming late, yesterday's outfits, glaring metal on your left hands. Anyone can see the connection there."

"It's for an Op, Sir. I swear." He could feel his ears go red.

Arthur waved his hands dismissively. "Far be it for me to pry. I'll be happy for you, should you two finally get there."

Auggie shook his head. He was not having this conversation. "Do you need something, Sir?"

"Ah, yes. I wanted to go over Operation Bear…"

(-)(-)(-)

Martha didn't bother hiding her smile as the two agents glowered at her.

"Having a bad day?"

Annie opened her mouth, but Auggie put a hand on her arm. "Don't. Just don't." They were sitting in her office for one last meeting. Annie knew they had others they'd send if she and Auggie weren't cleared to go. No matter what their records were, Martha had the final say.

"Your clothes will be returned to you at the end of the day. We are just finishing your background checks and what travel arrangements given to us by the island. It's a good thing we were thorough, they dug far deeper than we expected."

"Look, Martha, we're scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow. No more games. Are we going or not?" Annie had had enough of being jerked around.

The older woman pouted. "Oh, young people today are just no fun." She opened her side drawer and took out a thick file. Then it was like a flip was switched and her expression sharpened. Gone was Martha, the CIA theater director, in her place was Agent Rogers veteran.

"We have a few concerns about you, Agent Walker. You have a tendency to go off book; taking unnecessary risks and going so far as disobey direct orders from your superiors. You have only narrowly avoided prison in several countries, and have been officially labeled a "loose cannon" in your file. You will be silent," She snapped, when Annie opened her mouth. "The decisions you've been making, especially lately, are overly reckless and borderline suicidal. To send you out into the field with another agent has been a move no one has been willing to make. Had anyone attempted even half of the things you have, they would have been booted out of the agency and put on an international watch list."

"I do what's necessary." It was the phrase and delivered in a way that had Auggie's blood run cold. "I get the job done. I won't apologize."

"No need for attitude. You are very good at what you do, no matter our concerns. Tell me then, why would we choose you and your estranged handler for such a delicate mission?"

"Because no one knows me, really knows me, better than Auggie. No matter how reckless or wild I may seem, he know how I think. Why I do what I do. Conversely, I know Auggie…better than _most _of the women in this building. We've spent enough time together, and have enough of a rapport, to pass as a couple."

Martha tsked. "Such a clinical answer. No romance at all. Acceptable, but only just." She turned to Auggie. "I'll tell you frankly, Agent Anderson, you were chosen for you technical skill. The cover will get you on the island, but your skills at unraveling their system will complete the mission. To be honest, what worries me is you."

Auggie tensed. "Because I'm blind?"

"Because there is something too honest about you. I've seen blind men lie. While you had high marks on the farm in you deception training, you aren't a very good actor. Oh, I don't doubt you can temporarily fool a woman into believing that she is the center of your world, but there's no way you can keep up the act indefinitely. Convince me that this is a good idea. Tell me why, you'll be able to sell your relationship and not get made after the first week."

In truth, his superiors had said the same things to him back when he was in the field. He was a soldier first. He thought with his head, and couldn't make himself feel what wasn't there. He took a second to think. His answer had to be what she was looking for.

"Because no one makes me feel the way Annie does." The words were out before he could stop them. Next to him, Annie stiffened in surprise.

"And how's that?"

"Angry, confused, frustrated, worried. No woman or operative has ever made me feel so much. She makes me laugh, brings so much life into my world. She doesn't make me feel blind, doesn't make me feel like I have to prove anything. My feelings for Annie, and what she makes me feel are genuine. Too genuine to fake. They're there."

Martha started clapping. "Oh, Bravo. What an incredibly lovely answer." She handed each of them a file. "Your covers. Don't be surprised if there a thread a truth in everything. A car will be by to pick you up the morning of your flight. You will each have one suitcase and one carry-on of essentials for your new station as well as the equipment outlined in your dossier. Good luck."

They walked out, both slightly dizzy by hurricane Martha as well as the tension between them. Annie was reeling from what Auggie said, and he was reeling from how true they actually were. It was a dangerous place they couldn't afford to venture into.

They went their separate ways, lost in deep thought.

(-)(-)(-)

Annie was half an hour away from ending her day when Lena pulled her into her office. She did this from time to time, wanting to know where her head was at before a difficult mission. The older woman invited her to sit on one her plush couches, while she sat in its matching arm chair.

"So, how are you, Annie?"

Annie's brows knit together. Nobody ever asked her that without an ulterior motive. "I'm fine."

"Really? With the plays you've been making in the field lately? You're telling me that that's fine?"

She sighed. "Lena, what's this about? I've got a flight tomorrow and a ton of paperwork to finish up."

"I know what happened in Paris, Annie."

She shut her eyes for a moment. She knew that her behavior wouldn't have gone unnoticed, the reason behind it obvious for anyone who was read in, but it still hurt so much to think about it, about him.

When she opened them again, Lena was looking at her sympathetically. Not with pity, just understanding, from someone who knew loss.

"If you're not ready, it wouldn't look suspicious if you took a break. Between me and Joan, you've earned a nice vacation. Take some time to process."

"The op is live tomorrow, Lena."

Lena paused, and sighed. "I understand the need to bury your pain in the job, but you can't run forever Annie. Good operative get themselves killed the way."

Because she understood that her boss genuinely cared about her wellbeing, she said. "I'm working on it. Not fine, but getting there. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." She got up, and headed for the door.

"It's not his fault, you know. He couldn't have known."

Annie paused at the door, as if to say something and then thought better of it.

Lena leaned back in her chair, marveling at how history repeated itself so often. Someone like Annie could spend and indefinite amount of time trying to escape pain, but the past had a way of catching up with you at your most vulnerable.

She'd learned the hard way that truth was the only way to peace. She'd make sure that Annie wouldn't go as long as she did before finding that peace.

(-)(-)(-)

Author's note

So sorry! It's been forever since I updated, and I've had this chapter written out on paper for a while. I feel awkward and rusty, but I'm still here. I'm plugging away at a plot, and I did promise completed fic. I'll try to get better at updating more frequently, at least less time between updates.

A word on Lena: I'd like to remind you guys that I started this fic before the whole Lena-is-a-traitor thing. Might play a part, might not. Haven't decided yet. I'm using some elements from the show, but not all. Consider it an alternate ending starting from when Parker dumped Auggie the second time.

Also, a shameless plug: **check out my fanfiction community: Covert Fiction**. It has a lot of amazing fics that some of you might not have noticed yet. I've scoured page by page and picked out my absolute favorites. **I'm taking request too if you guy want to commission oneshot, send me a PM**.

Thank you so much for your continued support, and hope I haven't lost anyone yet.

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